


Haunted Fiasco

by GeekWithTea



Category: Pendragon - D. J. MacHale
Genre: As that appears to be the whole fandom, Bobby is a child, First Meeting, Gen, If others like it I may develop it, No shipping here, Saint Dane is an older man, haunting AU, lots of swearing, slight reference to fanmade backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 16:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11467323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekWithTea/pseuds/GeekWithTea
Summary: Bobby Pendragon has bit off more than he can chew, when he offers to bust a house that actually has a ghost inside. (Haunting AU)





	Haunted Fiasco

**Author's Note:**

> This may become a longer story but the chance of it is unlikely. There are a few references to stuff I have discussed on a chatroom I am on, but if enough people outside of the specific chatroom like this, I may continue it to give some explanation.

Bobby was a shit tier idiot. Not even a good tier, but shit tier. Because this time, he thought, his stupidity was going to get him killed. As the dogs barked around him, he hid in the closet pondering his life mistakes. Paranormal investigator? Shit, he was just a kid with a hobby. This was a fucking demon! There was no way that he could possibly beat this thing. He hoped that the salt around him was a genuine fact, or else he was going to be eaten by dogs.

Geez, who had pissed this thing off? He shuddered at the image of the golden eyed spectre and his golden eyed dogs. Wasn’t his uncle smart enough to know that a fourteen year old who boasted about being a supernatural expert was obviously not equipped to deal with this? Forget $50, he was going for $1000 and the new PS4 if he survived this ordeal!

Which he was clearly not going to, according to the glowing demonic face floating directly in front of him. Oh look. Salt didn’t work. How diddly darn wonderful. Fuck. Oh and wasn’t his face in the door, like, the one escape route?

“Beg for mercy, scoundrel.” Glowing teeth snared. “Beg for my mercy, Press Tilton.”

Wait…that was his uncle? Why was he trying to kill his uncle? But more importantly, Bobby Pendragon, who was clearly not Press Tilton, had a way to survive. Maybe.  
Quickly, he flipped open his wallet. “B-but I am not Press! My name is Bobby! B-o-b-b-y! It’s on my health card! On that note, I’m also an organ donor, so if you kill me please preserve my organs. Some sick child-“ A sharp slap fills his vision, and a frozen sting takes over every single one of his nerves.

“Do not invoke children, Press. I know how little they mean to you.” The ghost snarls and snatches Bobby’s health card. His eyes turn from pure golden to almost normal, except for the ice blue irises. His eyes turn from angry, to confused, to…something that probably spelled trouble for him.

“2017 be damned!” He throws the health card, and it sticks into the wood as if it were a knife. Suddenly, the ghost disappeared, dashing out of the room.

Now, the smart thing to do would be to get the hell out of there, collect his racing heart, delete his blog and pursue knitting, but he was already a shit tier idiot, and this shit tier idiot had questions. Quietly, he sneaks out of the room. The dogs walk around dazed and confused, but were much friendlier. The golden retriever especially who went from trying to rip his leg off to licking his face off. He could have just stayed with the dogs and enjoyed an eternity of love, but for now, he still had questions to answer.  
“Mr. Ghost? I’m probably being a dumbass, but where are you? I’m not here to bust you…” He added “as if I could,” under his breath in a bitter mumble. “You, uh mentioned my uncle, and…kids. I don’t know anything about that…would you…er…mind explaining?”  
Mr. Ghost was silent. “Okay, so maybe I am pushing your personal boundaries…can I get your name at least?”

He hears a cupboard open. “If you are planning on staying, I may as well treat you to the cultural practices. But this is nothing more. You are much more of an invader than a guest in my home, Pendragon.”

Cute. His last name. Just the favourite part of his name. But maybe it wasn’t the best idea to argue nicknames with a ghost that just tried to kill you? So, he didn’t.

“And the cultural practice is…?”

“No one in the home is allowed to starve, especially a…visitor.”

Bobby felt there was a little bit of cognitive dissonance in that. So…he was allowed to be slaughtered by dogs, but not allowed to go hungry? Oh brother…

“Hey, I didn’t steal nothing.”

With a frustrated sigh that reminded him more of a principal than a rage induced ghost, he turned to him with his hands folded. “First of all, the word is anything, and second of all, you came here with the express intention of evicting me from my home.” He didn’t look murderously angry but he still had a certain anger that he didn’t feel the need to mess with.

“Actually…the intention was to fake a house cleansing to get $50 bucks…I, well, I didn’t believe in ghosts. No hard feelings. Wow, I just tried to scam my own uncle…kind of a shitty person, aren’t I?”

“Considering it is your uncle, hardly.” While the ghost now seemed too refined for such a thing, he imagined him spitting at the reference to him…but then again he literally just tried to kill him. Why was he still here?

“So…um…maybe I should just go...” He gestured to the door. With lightning speed, the ghost blocked his entrance.

“I insist. I must make up for this slight.”

Somehow, shockingly, his insistence didn’t help. Bobby had the depiction of eating oddly human mystery steak. He shuddered. “Um…lead the way I guess.” He let out a nervous chuckle. The state of the dilapidated house didn’t help. Why had Press sent him to deal with a real, actual, ghost in a house that looked like it was going to collapse at any second? Maybe Press didn’t think the ghost would be around, or underestimated their feud…whatever that was. Maybe he didn’t even know who his uncle was. Yeah that had to be it. Wasn’t there like…7 people on average that looked like everyone in the world. Must have been the uncle of one of those guys. Must have been a serial killer. Yeah, that would explain a lot. He’d probably go psycho on a serial killer too.

“I did not go psycho.”

“What? I didn’t say anything?”

“No but you mumbled your entire train of thought. I would not serve meat, quite frankly, let alone human.”

They walked out into the garden in silence, and the ghost began to dig through the weeds, snatching up a few dandelion leaves, a few crab apples off the scraggly tree and a few raspberries from an overgrown bush. Bobby felt his stomach ache at what possibly could come from this.

“You have a water bottle. Is it full?” Silently, he handed it to him. “Do not worry about me getting sick. I can no longer eat. This is for you.”

Ah. That is why he was making that.

“You look disgusted…there are some maggots in the back if you insist on meat.”

“Oh god! That’d be worse!” He quickly covered his mouth, worried that the ghost would be offended by the outburst.

“Yes indeed they would. I take it you have never had to survive out in the wilderness with no supplies?”

“Umm…you have?”

The ghost blinked. “Fair enough. Not everyone had friends who were involved in the mercenary business.”

“Oh. Guess that’s doing well for survival food.” Bobby trailed off. He used to make fun of Mark for carrying emergency ketchup packets, but now he understood. This was going to be disgusting.

Now entering the kitchen, the ghost levitated a pot to the stove, pouring most of the water inside. Turning to the cutting board, he chopped the apples into small pieces, and behind him, the raspberries were smashed by the pestle. The raspberries floated towards the stove which turned on as they arrived. The leaves were then washed with the remaining water. After what felt like several minutes, the ghost passed him a plate, floating over the leaves now mixed with apple, and a ladle pouring out a small scoop of the raspberry over it.  
“I would prefer to give you something better, but this is not exactly ideal.”

Fuck ideal. Bobby felt rainbows literally coursing through his head. This was…amazing!

“Dude, I know you’re already dead and all, but this shit is like…your calling. How the hell did you make dandelion leaves taste this damn good! It’s a goddamn salad but, damn bro!” Bobby’s eyes widened when he realized what he said. “I mean, it’s delicious.”

He heard a slight chuckle. “It has been a very long time since someone has had my food, let alone praised it so fervently.” It was kind of nice to see the ghost you know, trying not to murder him.

“That sucks man. I mean, I just play basketball, but if I couldn’t play on a team, I’d get pretty bored.” The ghost seemed to become sullen, but for only a moment.

“It does get…” He took a slight shake of his head. Guess Bobby hadn’t reached level four friends yet…wait…why was he even thinking this? This ghost tried to kill him almost an hour ago!

“So…am I allowed to leave yet?” The ghost looked slightly hurt at this. He probably didn’t get any company here…

Bobby Pendragon, you absolutely too nice of a person…

“Um…maybe I’ll come back with some things. Like, a spice or something. My mom bought this, uh, extra garlic but she likes the cloves too much for the powder…but you got to promise something. No killing me. And I can’t come whenever. I have school work.” But didn’t his Mom want him to get tutoring? This English course was ridiculous…hey…

“And in exchange, you can help me with my English homework. I mean, you talk really well, so you are probably educated in that sort of thing…my Mom needs to know where I am going or she will freak.”

“Yes, your mother should know where you are. Parents worry dearly about their children.” There was something in his eyes, but Bobby didn’t ask. Probably wasn’t his business for now. He didn’t even know the guy’s name…wow. He probably should ask again, huh? It’s not like he could take him to Starbucks or something.

“And, I can’t believe I didn’t ask, but what is your name?” Well, he asked the murder version, not the nice one.

The ghost paused, as if he were hesistant to share it. Probably because of that uncle thing. “…You may call me Dane.” He seemed to settle on. Fair enough.

“Cool. Can you call me Bobby? We really don’t call each other last names here.”

“Sure…Robert.” There was just the slightest smirk on his face. Bobby scowled. “Fine. Pendragon works then.” The ghost couldn’t help but titter slightly.

“Well, Mom is probably wondering where I was. Hey, I probably need to tell my Uncle I got you out. So…at some point if you hide a bit I can…” The ghost frowned deeply. “I was going to say that I would spend all $50 on you!” His eyebrow rose. “Fine. I won’t. I’ll just humiliate myself.”

“It won’t kill you. Trust me, I would know.” Was that a joke? That was a Dad joke if he ever heard one, ugh.

“See you, tomorrow then? Do you have anything you need to do?” The ghost just stared at him with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “…Right. Well, uh, bye!”  
This was going to be interesting…really interesting…


End file.
